The Claddagh
by nodumbbitch
Summary: Keg! Max! only Lane's not throwing up in the bushes. Can Jess finally open up to Rory? oneshot


The Claddagh 

_a one-part Gilmore Girls fanfic by skazumbi the loveli_

The blinking lights of the police car reflected off Jess's face. He was breathing heavily. "Jess!" she called, but he had turned his back to her, walking off into the night. She looked back at Dean, who was also breathing heavily, but his girlfriend had rushed over. The cops continued to break up the party behind her. She looked around quickly, and then ran off in the direction that Jess had taken.

"Jess?" she called again. No answer. She saw his shadow turn a corner, and ran after it. "Jess!" He still didn't stop. She sprinted to catch up with him. Her chest heaved and she gasped for air, but she kept pushing. He had slowed to a fast paced walk by the time she caught up and grabbed his shoulder. "Jess, wait…" He threw her off and she fell back against a building. She cried out – a short, pain-filled yelp. He fought to not rush to her aide.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice rising a few octaves. "What is going on with you?" He just stood there, chest rising and falling fast, shoulders shuddering. He was trying his hardest to not touch her again, to not say a word. "Jess, why won't you just talk to me? Please?" she pleaded. She could feel myself breaking down. She didn't want this to happen. She couldn't let any of this happen. "Say something," she whispered, deflated. He clenched his jaw.

"Rory," he murmured. He said nothing else. He could say her name aloud, under his breath, but he seemed incapable of uttering another word, let alone an explanation. The two stood there in silence, and only the sound of their breathing broke that silence. After what seemed like hours, she spoke again. "I'm watching you self-destruct here, Jess. If you can't say anything now, then don't bother to ever."

He opened his mouth. "I'm sorry," he tried to say, but it came out as a high-pitched croak. He swallowed, but he could feel his heart rising in his throat, pounding, pounding, pounding. He wondered if he were still breathing properly.

"You're sorry? You're _sorry_? What am I doing here, Jess? Why…" her voice broke, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Still no reaction. "What happened to you? What happened to us?" They stared at each other. He could feel every emotion known to man flowing through his veins – it was a powerful weapon, what he was feeling. There was anger, sadness, shame, glory, ecstasy, fatigue, fear, and thousands of other surging through his mind. All he wanted was to make it better for her.

By the time he had noticed the silence, she was about to walk away. She was turning. It was like in the movies, when the bullet was being shot: everything was in slow motion and as soon as the bullet hit, it sped up. Her back was turned, and he spurted out, "I'm being expelled. From school." She looked at him over her shoulder, and saw how painful it was for him to say anything. She took a step forward, and her feet made a hollow echoing noise on the pavement. 'That's the sound I'd make,' he thought to himself.

"You're… being… expelled?" she repeated slowly, wearily. He nodded in the same manour. "Well, they're not letting me graduate." She looked at him in disbelief. It was as if she could feel his heart smash into bits when he saw the look flashing across her face. What she thought she felt was nothing compare to what he was feeling from that look. What he felt was his chest contracting, his heart exploding into a million pieces, and his skin melting away – all this because of the look she gave him. A look that said, "You've done all this tonight because of expulsion? You screwed all this up because of something that you could've easily said to me when I asked what was wrong." A look that called him a coward and a traitor, a look that made him feel like a disgusting rat in the sewer. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat and tried to pull together some dignity.

"Why didn't you tell me?" is what she really said, despite what her nonverbal languages told him.

"I'm a coward, and an idiot, and other things," he said meekly, staring at his feet. He couldn't look her in the eye. "I didn't know what to say, or how to say it, or even what was happening right in front of my eyes. I wasn't thinking, because that's all I ever do. Not think. It's like my brain, it doesn't work or something," he began to talk faster and faster, he sounded completed lost. "I can't think straight anymore." He sighed, and looked at her. "I have no future. I have nothing. Luke'll kick me out. I have nowhere to go. I can't go to college, I can't go back to New York, and I can't stay here. I'm… lost, and I don't know who I am or what's going on around me. I can't stand just sitting around waiting anymore."

"What are you sitting around waiting for? What's keeping you from just up and leaving? I mean, you've left before, you can do it again," she said coldly. "Well?" she asked when he was silent. Tears clung to the edge of his eyes, and stung his eyelids. He didn't understand what he was doing anymore; he didn't know what to do. He saw that she was allowing her salty tears to wash down her cheeks. She was frustrated and confused, possibly even more so than he was because he was unable to voice what was happening. "Well?" she repeated.

"I don't know what I'm waiting for," he said plainly. She sighed and gave him the look that crushed his chest. She was lost, and confused, but so was he. At least they could share that at the moment. "I don't want to leave Star's Hollow. I don't," he said, quiet, complacent. "I think I know why."

"Why is that?" she asked, curious. "Jess, this whole night has just been confusing and frustrating, and it hurts that you can't talk to me. So in attempt to save this and begin mending what's been broken, you have to tell me something more than little glimpses into your head. What you're doing isn't going to solve anything. So tell me, why you won't just leave? Why do you have to go screw everything up?"

"Because…" he began, biting his lip before going on. "Because… I love you." She looked kind of blank. He was sure she would've had a better reaction, at least looked shocked or happy. "Rory?"

"Love is a many splendid thing," she said sarcastically. "You love me? You say you love me? So this… this is how you show it?" she blurted out before thinking. And when she had paused to think, she realized that Jess had never loved anyone before. He had no idea what he was feeling, and he had no way to express it.

"I suppose it is," he said, cutting her off from her quick apology. "I'm not like you Rory. I haven't had a wonderful family to depend on. I've mostly had to fend for myself. I haven't had anyone who really loved me, and I've never had anybody to really love back. And I'm sorry that my expression of love isn't good enough for you, but it is what it is. I can't go back and change everything that happened tonight, hell, even the last couple of days, but I wish I could. And I feel this huge hole in my chest because I know I'm in love with you and I've already ruined it." She just stood there, staring at him. She saw genuine love and pain. He saw pity.

He stuck his hand into his back pocket, and drew something out. I played with it a little bit before saying anything. "I bought this a while back. It was for you. I know neither of us are really proudly Irish, if at all, but it's supposed to symbolize all the things that I haven't been able to show otherwise." He stuck his hand out and in the center of his palm was a cold, golden ring. In his hot hand it felt like ice, but when she picked it up while fighting back tears, it felt like him. She slipped it on her finger. "Perfect fit," he whispered, grinning sadly. She returned the smile, and more tears streamed down her face. She fell against his body, and he held her tight, and he knew he wouldn't be able to let her go. Her head rested on his shoulder as tears went silently down both of their faces.

"We can fix this. But we just have to… talk more."

"But not now," she murmured into his shoulder. He nodded his head in agreement, and held her closer, tighter, trying to fill the empty space in his chest. His hands - the friendship - hugged her tightly. His head - the crown, the loyalty – could not think of a thing other than her and how much he needed her in his life. His heart – the love – was filling for the first time. This was all he needed, this was the ecstasy, the fear, the happiness, the loneliness, the madness, the anger, the tearful sadness, the emptiness, and the wonder that he had been feeling all this time. It was being mended and now, simple love ran through his body and they stood there, crying in the dark, holding onto each other as tightly as they could, and refusing to let go.


End file.
